Don't Forget Me

by Stacy Claflin

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “You did?”

  “Yes, sir. And now that it’s official, I can do this.” She pressed her soft lips on his and deepened the kiss immediately.

  Nick’s pulse raced. He kissed her back with pent up passion, but still keeping himself in control as the kids were just inside, not far out of view.

  Genevieve pulled back and pressed her palm on his chest. She stared at him with an intensity in her eyes.

  He wanted to take possession of her mouth, but he held back. Moving too fast before was what had ended up pushing them apart. He’d nearly lost her because of giving into his desires.

  Nick studied her bright gray eyes, trying to believe this was actually happening. That if it weren’t for the dead bodies in her parents’ yard, he wouldn’t even know where she was.

  She pressed her other palm on his chest, and his breath caught.

  If she kept looking at him like that, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from planting his lips on hers again. She obviously wanted this as much as he did—she’d already applied at different departments so they could be together.

  He leaned closer.

  His phone rang.

  Disappointment washed through him. “Sorry. Might be the station.”

  She nodded.

  He hated to ruin the moment, but he had to check it. And it was Anderson. “Fleshman here.”

  “Sorry to bother you, Captain.”

  “What is it?”

  “I thought you should know they ID’d another body.”

  “That’s good, but you’re not going to call me each time, are you? There are going to be a lot of these rolling in over the next few days.”

  “I know, sir, but this one also has a connection to our person of interest.”

  Nick’s stomach twisted. “What do you have?”

  Genevieve watched him, her expression growing concerned. As it should’ve been, given the news Nick was about to hear.

  “The two families were next door neighbors. The girl would’ve been about Officer Foster’s age. Sir, she may have been friends with the victim. We need to find out if that’s the case.”

  Nick swore and turned away from Genevieve. “What’s her name?”

  “Leigh Monaco. She was eleven when she was taken. How do you want to handle this? Do you want to ask the Fosters about this? Garcia and I can call them in.”

  “No. I’m not far from the condo. I’ll talk with her.”

  They ended the call and Nick slowly turned back to Genevieve.

  “It’s not good news, is it?” Genevieve asked slowly.

  He shook his head. “One of the victims was a neighbor of yours at the time. Same age as you.”

  Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What? Who was it?”

  Nick took her hand. “Did you ever know a Leigh Monaco?”

  “Leigh? She wasn’t kidnapped. She went to live with her grandparents.” Realization that she’d been told a lie spread across her face. “She never went with them, did she?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  Genevieve’s brows came together and her nostrils flared. “My best friend was killed, and my parents never told me the truth? Never gave me the chance to mourn? To grieve?”

  Nick squeezed her hand, then pulled her close. “I’m really sorry. I’m sure they were just trying to protect you since you were so young.”

  “How dare they!” She shook against him.

  He rubbed her back. “I think we need to prepare for the worst, Genevieve. It’s possible your father may have been involved, and I need to get to the bottom of this. Or at least have my guys find out the truth. I may have to remove myself from this case, or we’re going to have to stop seeing each other until this is solved.”

  She continued shaking. “Do what you have to do.”

  “Would you prefer I take myself off the case? I don’t want to be the one to…” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

  “Arrest my father,” Genevieve said for him.

  “Right.”

  “Do what you have to,” she repeated.

  Nick pulled out his phone and called Anderson back.

  “Did you talk to her?” Anderson answered.

  “Yes. Genevieve knew the vic but didn’t know the girl had been taken. I need you and Garcia to question Walter. He’s at a friend’s house.”

  “I’ll get on that right away.”

  “Thanks, Anderson.” Nick ended the call and held Genevieve, who sobbed in his arms for the second time that day.

  Flinch

  Zoey opened her eyes, not wanting to wake. She was on the couch, leaning against Alex, who was texting with a tense expression on his face.

  “Are you okay?” Her voice came out scratchy. She cleared her throat.

  He turned to her, his frown disappearing and his eyes filling with concern. “Did I wake you?”

  She shook her head. “I think it was the TV.”

  “How are you feeling?” He set aside his phone.

  “Who are you texting?” She craned her neck to see the screen.

  “No one.”

  “You expect me to believe that? You have to be texting somebody.”

  Alex frowned. “You’re right. I just didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Worry? About what?” Had he heard something from the hospital? She almost didn’t want to know. “Is everything okay?”

  He took a deep breath. “I’ve been getting texts from someone who says Flynn wants to see me.”

  Zoey’s heart skipped a beat. “Ariana’s abductor? He wants to see you?”

  He nodded. “Unfortunately.”

  “The man who almost killed her?” Rage pulsated through her body. “He’s contacting you?”

  “Not him directly. He’s supposed to be in jail. That’s where he wants me to visit him. I don’t know what to think.”

  “You still think he’s out?”

  Alex’s brows drew together. “He is. I’ve seen him.”

  “Someone who looks like him?”

  “No! Not unless he has a twin nobody knows about—and that’s ridiculous. It’s him. I could never forget that face.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “Tell me about it. Believe me, I’ve questioned my own sanity over this more than once. I know how it looks.” He took a deep breath. “But I don’t want you worrying about this. I’m going to ignore him. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

  Her stomach lurched at the thought of food. “Just tired.”

  Alex kissed her cheek. “Why don’t we get you ready for bed? I should get some sleep, too. I have to get up early to drive to the academy tomorrow. Unless you need me to stay. I will if you want me to.”

  She shook her head. “No, you need to go. I’ll be fine. I have to work, anyway. I’m going to talk to my boss about working from home part of the week.”

  “Part of the week? You’re on bedrest, Zo. You can’t go in at all.”

  She frowned. “I might start to feel better in a few days. My bleeding seems to be lighter.”

  He shook his head. “No work. You heard the doctor—bed rest. Are you going to tell them about the pregnancy?”

  “I’m going to have to, although they’re bound to figure it out eventually whether I say anything or not. Can’t hide it, especially not with twins.”

  “True.” He looked deep in thought. “Do you want me with you when you tell your parents and Ariana?”

  Pain pressed on her temples. “How are we going to explain this to Ariana? That these babies aren’t yours? That I was violated and—?”

  “We won’t.” Alex enveloped her into his embrace. “We’re getting married and I’m raising them as if they were my own because they’re yours. There’s no reason for anyone to think they aren’t mine.”

  “But I have to testify against him. What if they question the paternity then?”

  “Why would they? You were engaged when he abducted you. Ther
e’s no reason anyone would think you weren’t already pregnant. He violated you, that’s all anyone needs to know. We’ll get married, then my name will be on the birth certificates.”

  “But what if people ask about Dave being the father? What do I say then?”

  “Tell them that I’m the twins’ dad. I’m going to raise them with you, so I am their dad. And besides, asking if he raped you is horrible. It’s none of their business!”

  “What if the twins ask questions later? We can’t hide the truth from them if they suspect anything.”

  Alex cupped her chin. “I doubt they will. Even so, we have plenty of time to worry about that. At least twelve years. Maybe more. For now, let’s just make sure you’re taken care of. Who’s going to watch you tomorrow?”

  She pulled away. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “You’re not supposed to get out of bed.”

  “Then why am I on the couch?”

  “Because you’re resting. I’m going to carry you back to bed, remember?”

  Annoyance ran through her. “I can walk.”

  “I know you can. That’s not going to stop me from carrying you. Sure you don’t want something to eat before going to bed?”

  “Not unless you want me puking.”

  He shook his head. “No. Do you want me to see if the doctor can prescribe you something for the nausea? You need to eat something. Especially with two babies in there, taking their nutrition from you.”

  “I’m still eating. Just not a lot.”

  “Are you getting enough?”

  “I think so. Especially since I’m not going to need any energy for walking around.”

  He frowned. “You say your bleeding has gotten better?”

  “It’s hard to tell, but I think so.”

  “Well, I’ll take you so you can check.” He scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  She leaned against the counter and nodded.

  Alex closed the door behind him.

  Zoey took a deep breath and got herself ready for bed, trying to ignore the fatigue squeezing her.

  “How are you doing in there?” Alex asked after a few minutes.

  Part of her wanted to be annoyed with him, but she couldn’t help loving him more for all of this. He certainly didn’t have to stick around to help her raise two babies that weren’t his. Especially since it basically killed their dream of having more kids together.

  “Everything okay?” He sounded worried.

  “Almost done. I’m fine.”

  She hurried as best she could, but found the longer she stood made her dizzy. Once done, she opened the door to find Alex two inches from her.

  “How are you feeling? Did the bleeding stop? Do you need anything?”

  She pressed a palm on the doorframe. “I just need to lie down. The bleeding has almost stopped. Almost.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good news.” Then he scooped her up again and carried her over to the bed and tucked her in. “How’s that?”

  She rested her head on the pillow. “Perfect. Thanks for everything. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

  “I’m here for you, Zo. No matter what.” He climbed on the bed and traced her jawline, gazing into her eyes.

  Zoey swallowed, overcome by emotions.

  Alex rested his hand on her shoulder and drew closer.

  She flashed back to the woods. To Dave approaching her. Violating her.

  She pulled back and gasped for air.

  Alex jumped and let go. “What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

  Zoey blinked a few times. It took her a moment to realize she was safe in her bed. That Alex was with her. He would never intentionally hurt her.

  “Zo?” Worry filled his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry.” He pulled her close and rubbed her back.

  Wistful

  Genevieve kissed Tinsley’s forehead, then left the bedroom, leaving the door open just a crack.

  Exhaustion swept through her, pressing on her temples and on every muscle in her body.

  Light shone from underneath her parents’ door, and she could hear hushed tones from inside the room. At least her dad had spent the whole evening with others and was now settling into bed for the night.

  She wanted to ask him about the latest development—the one behind her aching fatigue. Leigh Monaco, who Genevieve had always believed had gone to live with her grandparents. She had been dead all this time. Dead!

  Her dad wasn’t going anywhere now. If he tried to sneak out early, Genevieve would wake and question him. She needed to hear the answers herself.

  Why had they hidden the death from her? Because they thought she was too young to know the truth? Genevieve could accept that, but paired with the fact that her Dad also knew the father of the first victim and the fact that they were now living in their old house, it was too much to be a coincidence.

  She stared at her parents’ door, half wanting to knock and half wanting to climb onto the futon and let sleep take her away from everything. Instead, she crept into the bathroom. That would give her a few minutes to think about what she should do.

  Except she already knew what she should do. She should confront him and get answers. With Tinsley asleep, there was no better time than the present.

  Still, there was part of her that didn’t want to face what could potentially be the truth. Was it possible her dad had been murdering girls since before Genevieve was born?

  Her entire body went cold. Her hands shook.

  Breathe. Focus. Think.

  “You’re a cop,” she mumbled. “You can do this. This is what you do for a living.”

  But this was different. Way different.

  Tears stung her eyes, and she caught sight of her reflection. Instead of a tough police officer, she saw the scared teenager who had barely escaped the nightmare in the woods. Terrified. Exhausted. Alone. Beaten.

  She washed her face and avoided the mirror. It was too much—facing her past and her father all in one day. But it had to be done.

  Her mind raced as she finished getting ready for bed. She would demand answers. He’d been claiming innocence the whole time, so he had to have reasonable explanations. She hoped.

  What would she do if he didn’t? Could she keep going if her worst fears turned out to be true?

  A horrible thought struck her. What if her mom was involved? They had both hidden Leigh’s death from her. Both told Genevieve that her best friend had moved to her grandparents’ house. She’d been eleven. Old enough to handle the truth. It would’ve crushed her, sure, but she had deserved the truth.

  Genevieve forced herself to look at her reflection. She stared into her eyes until she saw strength rather than weakness. No, strength in the weakness. Then she held onto that and marched out of the bathroom.

  A door closed.

  She looked around. The light under her parents’ door was out. Everything was dark, except for the lamp next to the futon.

  Genevieve tiptoed to her parents’ door and turned the knob. She could see the silhouette of the bed—and only one person lying in it.

  Her heart sank, and as she crept over, she saw exactly what she had known she would—her mom alone. Their bathroom was empty.

  She explored the rest of the condo, still not finding him. Peeking outside revealed Dad’s car was gone from where he’d parked it earlier.

  It was time to face the facts. He looked guilty, so he probably was. There was no solid evidence, but it was only a matter of time. The truth would eventually come to light. Especially with the rate at which evidence was pointing to him, even if still only circumstantially.

  Genevieve collapsed on the futon and shook.

  Her dad had always been her hero. When she was a little girl, she’d seen him as perfect and strong. The man could do no wrong in her eyes. She was old enough
to know nobody was infallible, but it gutted her to think she’d could have been so completely wrong about him.

  Innocent until proven guilty.

  Would that hold up? Was there any hope left that he could be innocent?

  If only he would help them help him. She would do anything to help, but all he was doing was pushing her away. Making himself look guiltier and guiltier.

  Why keep taking off? Alone, no less?

  She pulled out her phone and sent him a quick text.

  Genevieve: Where are you?

  Dad: Went to check on the house.

  Genevieve: It’s a crime scene.

  Dad: Still my house.

  Genevieve: Why not take me?

  Dad: Next time I will.

  Genevieve: How does it look?

  Dad: Fine. Still has yellow tape keeping us out.

  Genevieve: Come back here. OK?

  Dad: OK. Need anything from the store?

  Genevieve: No. Just come home.

  Dad: The condo isn’t home.

  Genevieve: You know what I mean.

  Dad: Be there soon.

  She frowned as she reread the conversation. Why would he go to the house at this hour? Was he really just checking on his property? Or was he going back to the scene of the crime?

  Genevieve hated herself for doubting him, but what other option did he leave her?

  She went over to her reading app and opened a book about a young vampire in denial of her destiny. It was the perfect escape from the real world while she waited for her dad to get home.

  Except that after a few chapters, her eyes fell closed. And he still hadn’t returned.

  Patience

  “Would you put the phone down?” Gayle glared at Tony from behind her fashion magazine.

  He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and tucked his phone into his pocket, careful not to let her see the screen with Maisie’s photo.

  She kept her magazine in front of her. “What’s so interesting?”

  “Just Twitter. Everyone’s freaking out about the president’s latest tweet.”

  Gayle yawned. “Boring. I thought we were going to watch a movie. Or we could take it to the bedroom.”